Peter Needs
by learningtowrite1996
Summary: Peter needs a lot of things. He's just a fifteen year old kid after all, living with his single aunt. Luckily his new friend is Tony Stark, and Tony Stark has a lot of resources. Plus, he might just care a bit about Peter. Maybe.
1. Peter Needs Food

**Hey y'alls. Gosh so I haven't written in years. You can probably tell. These are just gonna be some one-shots with Tony and Peter bonding. I just saw the movie and thought Peter was adorbs. Please review, let me know what you think? Takes place after Homecoming.**

"What's wrong with you, kid?"

"Me?" Peter shot his head up from where it was leaning against the window. "Something wrong? Nothing – nothing!"

Tony raised his eyebrows while still looking down at his phone screen. "Nothing? You're a lot less chatty than usual."

Peter shrugged. Truth was, he wasn't feeling super great. He'd had to skip breakfast that morning and there wasn't much in the cupboard to pack for lunch. Actually, there wasn't really much at all so he'd just brought a granola bar. He was flipping hungry and it had thrown his whole day off. His hands were shaky, head dizzy, and thoughts clouded.

"Hey!" Tony punched Peter's shoulder repeatedly. "What's wrong with you, what's wrong with you, what's wrong with you, what's wrong with you, what's wro - "

"Augh! All right!" Peter yelled, pushing Tony's hand away. "Jeez!"

"Well," Tony smirked. "I asked you a question and you didn't answer. We can't be going and working in the lab if you're all melancholy."

Peter scoffed. "Melancholy? I'm not melancholy!"

"Yeah, you've been a damn delight, all sulking and shit," said Tony, rolling his eyes. "Usually you're bouncing off the walls, talking and talking and – "

"Nah, pretty sure that's your voice," said Peter, smirking. "I've never met someone that talks more than you do."

Tony nodded slightly. "Fair enough. Come on now kid," He finally looked up from his phone, over at Peter. "What's the deal? Girl reject you? Fail a quiz? Trip up the stairs? Didn't duck for a bully? Oh damn, _damn_ that better not be it."

"Um, no no no and _no_. I'm seriously good. Just not feeling too hot, that's all." Peter looked down at his hands.

"What? You sick? Gross."

"No I'm not – not – I dunno I guess I'm just kinda um," Peter chewed on his thumbnail in between words. "Hungry, ya know?" He looked over sheepishly at Tony.

Tony's eyes squinted. "Well that's the fu – wait that word's too much for you. The _flipping_ saddest thing I ever heard in my life. What, did your lunch get stolen or something?"

Peter's cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Gosh Tony probably thought he was such a loser. "Nah, I just didn't have time to pack much."

"Did you eat breakfast?"

"Ah, no. No time." His cheeks grew hotter. "Honestly Mr. Stark, it's not a big deal. I just feel a little extra woozy if I don't eat now. Ever since the spider bite, I don't know why – "

"You probably need more food now, damn Peter. Don't go skipping meals and shit."

"Hey, that's a bad word too." Said Peter, smirking.

Tony grinned. "It's a little more toned down. Happy!" He leaned over to look at his driver in the rearview mirror. "Peter is hungry!"

Happy groaned. "Well what the hell am I supposed to do about it?"

"I don't know, get him a damn taco or something, he's freaking starving to death! He needs food!"

Peter spoke feebly. "Actually, it's not to _death_."

"Shush, kiddie. Happy! Taco!"

"Well does he even want a damn taco?"

"Hey please don't say the word 'damn' around the kid, jeez what's wrong with you." Tony looked over at Peter, who was giggling. Tony's mouth curved slightly. "Do you want a taco Peter? Several tacos? A hamburger? Lobster?"

Peter crossed his legs up on the seat. "Um, a taco's fine. Whatever's cheapest."

"Don't ever say whatever's cheapest to me ever ever ever ever ever – "

"Boss!" Happy twisted around to look at Tony. "Where am I going?"

" – again. Happy, keep your eyes on the road there's precious cargo in here." He looked sideways at Peter, who was giggling again. "Me. I'm the precious cargo."

"Right," said Happy, looking at Tony in the mirror. He swerved in between lanes, eventually swinging into a parking lot.

"Cool, perfect. Happy go get the kid," Tony leaned his back against the window and looked at Peter. "What do you want? Chicken, pork, lobster?"

Happy rolled his eyes. "It's a taco shack. They don't have lobster you fu – "

Tony slapped the side of Happy's head, cutting him off. "Ahh! _Dude_! His ears will bleed."

"I can go in, Happy," said Peter quickly, noticing the frustrated look on the man's face. "You don't have to."

Tony's hand waved spastically. "Nah, what if you get kidnapped or something. Hap, get the kid ten with – " He looked expectantly over at Peter.

"Uh just – just chicken. But Tony – "

"Chop chop, Hap."

Happy pushed the door open, grumbling. Peter jumped at the sound of it slamming. Tony chuckled.

"Chill kid, take a breath." said Tony. Peter actually took a deep one. "Hey," Tony's face and tone changed slightly. He put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Take another one."

Peter did, shakily. He felt a pit in his gut. He was glad Mr. Stark was being so cool and getting him food and being his friend. But he kinda hated taking handouts and he hated that there was an actual problem. He wasn't stupid. He noticed May taking more and more shifts. He noticed her worried eyes and tired face. He knew she'd said she would go grocery shopping soon but kept putting it off. The pay check hadn't come yet. He got the picture.

Tony and Peter sat in silence for a couple minutes. Peter felt like it should be awkward but it really wasn't. Not anymore. He'd been spending more and more time with Tony and things flowed easier now. It was nice.

He looked over at Tony and gave him a wobbly smile. "I'm good, Mr. Stark. Really." Peter said quietly.

"Jeez kid, you really hungry? You've got like, _food_ at your place, right?" He said it in a half joking voice. He froze when he saw a flicker of panic on Peter's face. It was just a small moment, but Tony saw.

Peter put a smile back on his face. "Yeah, man. Yeah, yeah. We've got food we're good. I'm just dumb, don't keep track of time – you know. All over the place. Yeah."

"Yeah," repeated Tony. "And you say I talk a lot." He inched his hand a little from Peter's shoulder, placing his arm fully around him. Peter looked up at Tony's face, a slight glow in his eyes.

' _Gosh what a good kiddo_ ,' Tony thought. "Kid, do you – "

"All right!" said Happy, bursting into the car. "Ten tacos for the kid who's apparently _starving_ and needs _ten_ damn – oh – " Happy paused when he saw the arm around Peter's shoulder and the pale complexion on the kid's face. "Were we having a moment?"

Tony grabbed the bag of tacos from Happy's hand and placed them in Peter's lap. "Ya we're having a moment. I'm always having a moment, Hap, you know this by now." He looked down at Peter. "Kid could ya eat? For the love of – "

"Oh, right, right," said Peter, scrambling into the bag. He shoved two tacos into his mouth within ten seconds. Gosh he was _starving_. Already he felt his body calm, his hands still slightly, and his head clear. He shoved two more tacos in. Tony laughed but Peter ignored him.

"Well we can _go_ now Happy. Gosh, do people think I've got all day – getting tacos and shit." He stopped quickly, catching Peter's guilty expression. "Kidding, kidding kid. Jeez eat your food like a good child."

Peter gave a shy smile. Tony shot him a wink and fingered the checkbook in his pocket. Looked like he'd need to be giving his little intern a pretty hefty check soon…

 **Please review!**


	2. Peter Needs Medicine

_Slam!_

Tony jumped at the noise and sight of something red catapulting into his sliding glass door. Forgetting about the half-full cup of coffee he'd just made, he rushed over and pulled the door open.

"What in the hell – wait – _kid?_ "

There was Peter, flat on his back with excess webbing spread across his torso. He ripped his mask off and craned his neck up to see Tony, while still spread eagled on the billionaire's balcony.

"Oh hey, Mr. Stark," the kid said in a squeaky voice. "Your window's really clean."

Tony stumbled forward and reached a hand down towards Peter. "For crap's sake, Peter! What the hell are you doing? Are you all right?" He gripped the kid's hand and easily pulled him to a standing position.

Peter's face was milky white and his eyes looked a little red. But he had a huge grin on his face that said, ' _I think it's hilarious that I just flung into Tony Stark's door by swinging around on my little spider webs.'_

"Yeah, yeah, I'm great Mr. Stark!" Peter said breathlessly. "Didn't even hit my head or nothing! Hey, do you have anything to eat?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Get in here kid. Can't you watch where you're going?"

"Well, I can – it's just I thought your window was open ya know. Plus I was thinking about some stuff – "

"What do you want kid?"

"Anything. A drink of water for sure. I was thinking, like when you're in the iron man suit – do you – do you – "

Tony pushed Peter onto a kitchen stool. "Sit down and breathe a little more, kid. Jeez. Do you want a sandwich?"

Peter slipped out of his suit and sat up on the stool, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Yeah, do you have peanut butter?"

"Since you come here almost every day? Yeah."

Peter nodded. "Cool, cool. So I was thinking – um – hm." He shrugged. "I forget what I was thinking."

Tony looked up from the sandwich he was spreading peanut butter on and laughed. "Yeah? You're freaking spacy today, kid."

"I am?"

"Yup," said Tony, placing a peanut butter sandwich and a tall glass of water in front of Peter. "Spacey and weird."

"That's sweet," Peter sighed, looking at his food. "You're like a little mommy."

"Does your mommy tell you to shut your tits?"

Peter looked down at his chest. "How could I shut my – "

"Never mind," Tony told the kid, shutting his eyes tight. Weird image. "Just – eat your food. How late's May working tonight?"

Peter started chugging his water. Took a breath. "Late. Til' like midnight or something." And then chugged the rest. A slight tremor went through Peter's body, as if he was cold.

Tony squinted at the kid and took in his appearance fully for the first time. Peter's eyes were still red rimmed and there was a bright pink on his upper cheeks and nose. The rest of his skin was whiter than usual, as if he'd been out in the cold. He stretched a hand forward and placed it on the jittery teen's forehead. Peter raised his eyes up to look at Tony's hand.

"What's the dealio?" asked Peter, mouth now full of sandwich. The tips of his cheeks got even redder.

Tony pulled his hand back, taking in the abnormal warmth on the kid's face. "Yeah, what _is_ the deal, um, _dealio_? What the hell does that even – whatever. What's the deal? You feeling okay?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. Felt pretty lousy this morning so I took like, fifty ibuprofens or something – "

"Dear Lord, tell me that's a joke."

Peter gave his small smile. "Ya, totally. I just took like six."

" _Six?_ You little ass – "

"Hey! You're a bad influence!" another tremor rocked through Peter. "But I think it's wearing off now because I'm starting to feel cold again."

"Yeah?" said Tony, his tone softening from the usual teasing. "Well let's have you lay down, huh kiddo?

Peter shook his head vehmenantly. "No! You said we were going to do training stuff!"

"We can do that any time, kid. Come on, just lay down on the couch for a bit. I'll turn a show on for you. Okay?" Tony put his hand on the back of Peter's neck, wincing at the heat there.

Peter sighed slightly, but shoved the rest of his sandwich in his mouth, got up and followed Tony. "Okay but only if you'll let me finish Game of Thrones."

"Yeah, that's cute because I thought I said last week that I refuse to watch a sex scene with you, like, ever."

"We can _skip_ those!"

"Okay, then the episode will be two minutes long."

Peter plopped himself down on the couch and looked up at Tony, almost beaming. There was a slight smile on his flushed face. Something foreign in Tony's chest swelled. Well, not so foreign anymore. Not since Peter had been coming around when May worked late. Not since they'd started talking about and doing things that had nothing to do with Spider-Man or the Avengers. Tony smiled slightly back at him for a moment and then sat down softly.

He placed his hand on Peter's forehead again. "FRIDAY. What's Peter's temperature?" Peter swatted his hand away.

"I'm _fine_!"

"102.3, boss." FRIDAY responded evenly.

Tony shot up. Gosh why didn't this kid take care of himself? He'd been out there swinging around and going to school with a definite fever. "Yeah that sounds super fine. Looks like your OD on ibuprofen didn't exactly fix the problem."

"I didn't OD! And where are you going?" Peter called. Tony was already back in the kitchen rifling through his medicine cabinet. "I thought we were going to watch Game of Thrones!"

Tony bit back a laugh. "What kind of world are you living in, kid?"

"Opposite world."

"Cool," retorted Tony. His hand found what he was searching for. "Then _don't_ take care of yourself. Sound good?"

He rounded the corner of the kitchen to see Peter trying to figure out what he'd just said. "But why wouldn't you want me – oh. Ha." The kid crossed his legs up on the couch. "I'm in opposite world. Good one, Mr. Stark."

Tony laughed slightly but a little bubble of worry settled in his stomach. Peter was a little too out of it for his liking. They always bantered, but Peter was usually sharper than this.

"This'll do the trick, kiddo," said Tony, sitting next to Peter again. He wiggled a bottle of NyQuil in front of the teenager's face. " _This_ is what you're supposed to take when you're sick."

Peter crinkled his nose as Tony poured some of the syrupy red liquid into the plastic cup. "Well, we don't have any of that because one, it tastes like shit and two, it costs like ten zillion dollars."

Another money thing. Tony felt a pang at that. "Ten _zillion_? Damn, Peter. It's really sweet of me to be giving this to you then." He handed him the medicine. Peter handed it right back.

"No thanks."

Tony handed it back. "Yeah, cute. Drink it Peter."

"Yeah, nope. It's gross. Here ya go."

"I actually don't like being handed things, kiddie. Do we need to do an airplane?"

Peter gave that little smile again and giggled. "You think I'm funny, kid?" said Tony fondly, but still with his sarcastic tone. Peter nodded, still laughing. "Yeah? How presh. Now drink the freaking zillion dollar crap. For the love of – "

Peter snatched it back from Tony. "All _right_! Gawd. You're worse than May." He tried to down the medicine but some didn't quite make it.

"I'll take that as a compliment. And _ew!_ " He looked at Peter who was practically choking. "Don't you dare spit that out."

Peter coughed dramatically. "It tastes like demon peppermint."

"Good Lord," sighed Tony with no real frustration at all. He stood up again. "I'm gonna get whiplash from getting up and down so much."

"Cool, then I'll turn on Game of Thrones?"

Tony poured some water back into Peter's glass. "Touch the remote and I'll make you drink more of the demon peppermint." He handed Peter the water and the kid took it gratefully.

"Yay then I can OD again." Peter retorted. He looked up with just his eyes to see Tony's reaction and spit into his water at the annoyed look on his face. "Sorry. Drugs are bad."

Tony ran a hand down his face. "If you ever did drugs I'd – "

"Hey have _you_ ever done drugs?"

"Neither here nor there, little smartass." Peter smirked and Tony sat back down. "Would you chill now? You need to rest."

Peter kicked his shoes off and shrugged. "I do _not_."

Tony chuckled because it was such a _teenager_ thing to say. He reached for a blanket. "That's right. You're all grown up and don't need things like _health_ and _sleep_ – "

"You know what I need?" commented Peter as he curled into himself and lay down with his head inches from Tony's thigh. "Game of Thrones."

"The Office it is."

"Hm."

"Yeah?"

"That's a good one too, I guess."

Peter was slowing down. Usually he laughed his head off through every episode of The Office. This time he chuckled maybe twice. Tony stole a glance at him every few minutes, checking for he didn't even know what. He'd never taken care of a sick kid before.

The kid sniffed a couple times. "I've got mucus in my throat," he said thickly.

Tony hesitantly placed a hand on Peter's head. He didn't flinch it away. "That's… super gross. Thank you."

Peter sniffed again. "Welcome. This stuff's making me sleepy as hell."

Tony moved his thumb back and forth on the kid's temple. "Yeah, kinda the point. Just go to sleep, kiddo. You look completely wiped."

Peter nodded slightly. His eyelids fluttered. Tony pulled his eyes from the screen and looked at the sleeping teenager on his couch for a moment, wondering what the hell was going on in his life. There he'd been, at one of the lowest lows of his entire existence. Cap was MIA, his family was basically in ruins, he'd seen his parent's death with his own eyes and then all the sudden this seemingly headache of a kid popped into his life. And all of a sudden Tony was actually looking forward to him bounding down into the lab, or showing up on his porch. He was looking forward to picking him up from school or watching TV with him.

Glancing away from the now sleeping teenager and falling deeper into his thoughts Tony realized that yeah, he did look forward to those things. And maybe that wasn't really such a bad thing at all.


End file.
